Seashells
by Blueberry and Blacktooth
Summary: In which Esme thinks she's going through her Mid-Life Crisis and Arsinoë tells her to 'Woman Up'. Gift!Shot to SilentMayhem CP!Verse


**So, I was supposed to post this yesterday, however, something came up so it's late!**

 **Dedicated to _SilentMayhem_ for being so awesome! Hope you like it!**

 **Blue :)**

* * *

Esme sighed softly as she flicked idly through the newest issue of _Femme_ magazine, perched at the island in the kitchen and sitting on one of the stools with one elbow on the counter, her chin in her palm. Yes, looking through the newest fashion trends was always interesting –they had to keep with the times after all- but she found herself _bored._ She had nothing to do cooped up all alone in this big house. She didn't feel like working in the garden today, nor did she feel like painting, and though she had to go over some blueprints for the new house, she only had to go to the office at one, and it was still very early, only seven, meaning she had plenty of time to kill before she had to leave for Seattle at twelve.

The others were all out too, Carlisle was at the hospital, Alice and Rosalie were spending the weekend in L.A for shopping now that they actually _could_ go out in the sun (Bless Carlisle and Edward, those two were absolutely brilliant) and her sons were out doing who knows what, leaving her all alone.

She sighed again, this time in frustration at her lack of social life. Honestly, one would think that after more than eighty years, one would've have accumulated at least a handful of close friends! She would have called Carmen and gossip with her friend about the latest scandals about who's who in the Aristocratic Vampire world, however, Esme just wasn't in the mood.

Closing the magazine with a huff, she suddenly felt decidedly like her human age of twenty-five. Bored, impatient and restless. And the worst part was that these feelings had become increasingly more familiar recently. Being a stay-at-home mother was one thing –however being an immortal stay-at-home mother whose children didn't actually _need_ you was something else entirely. She couldn't even clean because the house was quite literally _spotless,_ and she had told the Orphanage in Seattle that she wouldn't be going in today, same with the Soup Kitchen. And even if she _did_ decide to bake or cook, it's not like anyone would eat it. She'd be forced to keep it in the fridge to take down to the Hospital or some such.

Ah, the woes of not having children to feed and fatten up!

Esme paused in the middle of smothering her face in her arms for a moment, suddenly remembering the fact that _yes,_ she did in fact have a child to feed and fatten up!

Well, technically, Arsinoë was more her best-friend than daughter, but the fact remained that at least she was someone to cook for.

Come to think of it, where _was_ the purple haired girl today? Esme knew that she wasn't with Edward, (the girl had firmly told her son that being in one another's presence every single day was _not_ healthy, and what an amusing sight it had been when he had come back home with a pout on his face like an abandoned puppy, but _really_ , Arsinoë was right in the end, and a little space every once in a while would do them _both_ some good) and as far as Esme knew, the girl's aunt was currently in Madrid, so there was a very good chance that Arsinoë was currently home alone. Of course, there was a good chance that she was out with a friend (at least _she_ had some), or had already made plans for the day, but the possibility was still there, and there'd be no harm in just _checking_.

Esme's butterscotch eye's drifted to the clock sitting innocently on the wall, slowly ticking away without a care in the world, and knawed guiltily on her rose stained lip. Seven-thirty wasn't _that_ early was it? She knew human teens often loved to sleep in and laze about on weekends, and even if that _weren't_ true, she knew for a fact that the purple haired girl loathed being awoken.

But really, Esme was desperate (and how she hated to admit it because how sad was it that her only other close friend aside from Carmen just happened to be her son's partner and was a teenage girl to boot?) and she didn't think she'd be able to survive such extreme boredom any longer –immortality or no.

And so, with no small amount of guilt and self-pity, Esme picked herself up from the island stool and made her way towards the kitchen phone, walking at human speed in a vain attempt stall for time.

Not that it worked much, considering the fact that she arrived in less than six seconds. Human speed may be slow, but it wasn't _that_ slow.

Picking up the mobile from where it rested on its stand, she dialled the familiar number, and waited with baited breath as it rang. She didn't understand why she was so nervous either, it's not like calling someone was _bad_ or anything, and besides-

" _Yeeeeee_ llo?" A familiar voice drawled, sounding wide awake, if a bit lazy. Esme breathed a sigh of relief, happy that she hadn't woken the girl up.

"Arsinoë, how are you this morning?" She asked, leaning on the counter and tapping her fingers idly. The sound of music was easily heard in the background, not that Esme was surprised. It was a well-known fact that Arsinoë could hardly go more than six hours without listening to a tune.

"Fine, and you?" She asked, followed by a frustrated sound towards whatever it was she was doing.

"Wonderful, thank you." Alright, that was a lie, but let it never be said that Esme was one to push her sullen moods onto others. Clicking her teeth together -a habit from her human years that had apparently, followed her into the proxy afterlife- she gathered her courage. "I was calling to inquire about your plans for the day? Would you be free to spend some time together?" She asked.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line that only served to increase Esme's growing anxiousness, before _finally,_ a sound of amusement filled through the speakers. "You mean hang out?" She asked bluntly. Esme blinked at the term. Yes, she supposed that was essentially what she was saying.

"…Yes. Are you available?" Esme asked, though even she noted her voice was _lacking._ Lacking what, exactly? Perhaps confidence was the word.

"I'm 'available', but lazy." The caramel haired woman could imagine the teen's nonchalant shrug as she said it, and she gave a small smile besides herself. "You're welcome to come over if you want though. I'm sure you must be bored all alone over there."

 _Well,_ it seems that Arsinoë had read her fairly easily. Was it really so obvious?

Esme paused awkwardly, before nodding slowly to herself. "I'll be there in ten minutes then." She convinced herself that she wasn't avoiding the girl's observation (correct as it may have been), she just saw no reason to confirm it.

Needless to say, Esme had a _bit_ of a problem admitting discomfort. And could you blame her, really? Taking care of other's was her _job._ It was what she _did,_ and had done so for as long as she could remember. To her, her own comfort came last, and didn't matter as long as everyone she cherished was happy.

But now, it felt as if no one needed her anymore. Yes, a part of her knew that wasn't true and her family still loved her as much as always, but still, the feeling of loneliness was there.

"Bring ice cream please." Her friend requested, before the line went dead.

Esme stared at the phone in her hand for a moment, before putting it back in its with a small sigh.

This was becoming a problem. Visiting a friend every once in a while was all well and good, but the fact of the matter was that her feelings of restlessness and futility needed to be resolved, otherwise she'd end up going mad.

Perhaps she was just going through her mid-life crisis? Did it also apply to Vampires?

Pushing off the counter with yet _another_ pitiful sigh (she'd been doing that a lot lately too, so much that even Carlisle was starting to notice and was giving her concerned looks), she made her way to the bedroom in order to make herself presentable.

She couldn't very well visit someone in silk pyjamas and slippers after all.

* * *

She found out a little later, standing in front of the Zeidan's open front door in a pair of blue capris, pink converse and a long-sleeved t-shirt that apparently she _could_ visit someone in silk pyjamas. It wasn't as if Arsinoë would care at all, considering the fact that the girl was still in her own nightclothes (And weren't those the sweatpants Edward had been looking for just the other day?) –feet bare, eyes half-open and hair messy.

Albeit, her purple hair was _always_ untameable, but this time it was an obvious result of a bed head than anything else.

Blinking a few times, Arsinoë grinned, stepping aside politely to let her in. "Morning Esme. Looking good as always."

The caramel haired woman smiled back, and gave her a one armed hug, pressing her cheek against the younger female's warm one fondly, before letting go. "You flatter me Arsinoë dear." Esme replied, making the girl roll her eyes.

" _Sure."_ The sarcasm was palpable and Esme let out a giggle of amusement. "Come on then, I see you've brought the ice-cream. Much appreciated by the way." Arsinoë said, leading her to their familiar kitchen.

"We have plenty, so it really is a pleasure." She answered honestly. Their freezer(s) at home were filled to the brim with iced goodies, since it was basically the only they could eat, and eat it they _did_. Popsicles and Iced-Lollies disappeared almost on an hourly basis, ice-cream tubs were grabbed and eaten in secret, frozen yogurt cups filled the trash can and don't _even_ get her _started_ on the flavoured ice-cubes!

 _Feuds_ were started regularly because someone finished the last of another's favourite flavour. She even remembered one occasion of which Jasper and Edward hadn't spoken for a whole _week_ because Edward had taken the last Raspberry iced-lolly. The tension between the two of them had been stifling.

Honestly, Esme feared that if they weren't so well off, her family would have long run bankrupt from the amount of money spent of iced-goods monthly.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Inquired Arsinoë, placing the ice cream in the freezer and rummaging through the drawers a moment before pulling out a medium sized wooden spoon. "We can watch something. Play video games. Gossip. Sit in silence and contemplate the meaning of one's own existence. The choices are endless, and since you're the guest, you get to choose." The girl declared, flashing her a humouring smile as she pulled out a large glass bowl from the cabinet.

Esme paused to think a moment, swinging around in the counter stool she sat in. She could admit the reason she was here in the first place was because she didn't know _what_ to do, and hadn't managed to find a solution either. Arsinoë was patient however, and waited coolly for her answer, casually extracting ingredients from various cupboards and occasionally venturing into the pantry, setting them down on the counter, bopping her head to the beat from the loud music in the living room that filled the house

Esme wondered as she stared at the girl, as she made her way around the kitchen with the ease of familiarity, what it felt like to be so casually confident in one's self, because God knew she had forgotten what it was like weeks ago –sometime around the time the lethargy and feelings of uselessness had first set in to be precise. "I'm not entirely sure." She admitted, and her tone sounded guilty. Those words seemed to somehow confess a lot more than she intended, conveying all her current feelings.

The purple haired girl gave her a long look from her under her half-lidded eyes, and Esme felt as if those eyes were slowly peeling away her layers, reading the true meaning of her words. She tensed defensively, preparing herself in case Arsinoë decided to comment. She didn't like to feel weak, and admitting her feelings outloud wasn't something she liked doing. Esme was a mother, and her job was to be the support structure and help others. How could she do that if she wasn't strong? Finally, Arsinoë blinked and looked away with a shrug, pulling out a jug of milk, a carton of brown eggs, and some vegetables before closing the fridge with her hip.

"Alright then." She acquiesced in a nonchalant voice, placing the items on the counter, clearly unperturbed, as if she hadn't just stared into Esme's soul. "We can always decide that as we go. For now though, why don't you give me a hand in making my breakfast?" She offered, gesturing with a nod to the items set on the table. Esme jumped at the chance, smiling brightly at the prospect of doing something worthwhile.

"What are we making?" She asked, sidling up next to the young girl eagerly.

Arsinoë shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure." She answered with a wry smile, mimicking Esme's words from earlier with no small amount of amusement as she handed the caramel haired woman the chopping board and a sharp knife. Esme wondered if she'd missed something somewhere.

"It's looking to be pancakes and a Spanish omelette, though." She mused, staring down at the items consideringly, before nodding in confirmation. "So, why don't you make the omelette? As good of a cook you are, I don't trust you with the pancakes." The girl declared with a smirk, before heading to the sink.

Esme huffed. "I'll have you know, that I've been repeatedly told that my pancakes are _wonderful."_ She stated, feeling vaguely insulted. She frequently cooked for the paediatric section of the local hospital, and the orphanage, _and_ the soup kitchen, and her pancakes had received nothing but praise!

"Your pancakes or your flapjacks?" Arsinoë asked, raising a brow as she wiped her wet hands on a clean kitchen cloth before setting the cup of water down. Esme frowned in confusion.

"Pancakes of course." She replied, causing the other girl to give her a sceptical look, as she stood next to her.

"As nice as you guys make them, I've realised that Americans frequently mix up pancakes with crepes and flapjacks with pancakes." She told her, as she started working –pouring flour into the glass bowl. Esme blinked as she made her way to wash the vegetables in the sink.

They did? She wasn't an expert on human food, so she could readily disprove the statement. "How so?" She asked, finding herself interested, placing the bowl of clean veggies down.

Arsinoë reached in the packet of sugar and pulled out a handful, quickly dropping it into the bowl before too many of the grains could escape. "Well, a flapjack is small, round, thick and smooth. A pancake is large, round and should be about the width of a centimetre, and a _crepe_ can be either size, but it should be literally paper thin. So thin that it's see through and tears easily." One egg was cracked on the rim of the bowl before being emptied inside, followed by the other. "The Europeans frequently get angry at you guys." The teen informed her, eyes twinkling in amusement, adding cinnamon.

Esme let out a thoughtful hum, picking up the knife and placing the onion on the board. "Well, it would seem that I too have fallen victim to that ignorance. According to your description, I make Flapjacks." She admitted, letting out a little laugh as she sliced the onion neatly in half.

"It's a common mistake, really. Although, don't let Lucy catch you calling them pancakes. She throw a right fit." Arsinoë said with a snort. Esme tilted her head in interest, not recognising the name.

"Lucy?" She asked and the girl beside her let out a noise of affirmation as she mixed everything together.

"Lucianna, my best-friend. She's Irish." Arsinoë elaborated. Esme quickly finished with the onion and moved onto a red tomato, frowning.

"Where is she?" Esme asked curiously, having not heard of the girl before. The purple haired girl simply shrugged.

"Back home." Was all the girl said, and somehow, Esme knew she didn't mean Egypt.

"Ah." She acknowledged, not pushing for anything more. They spent the remainder of the time cooking in silence, maybe exchanging a few comments or remarks here and there, and somehow, when they were done and the meal was prepared, Esme ended up cleaning the whole kitchen as well, much to Arsinoë's displeasure.

Esme had ignored her protests easily. Cleaning was something she could do, and it was something she was good at as well. She didn't mind at all.

(She tried to ignore the fact that at this point, she was just desperate make herself feel needed.)

And so, when finished in the kitchen, they made their way to the living room, where Arsinoë plugged a USB stick into the DVD player, and put on a show called _Game of Thrones,_ before they settled down comfortably on the couch.

"What is it about?" Esme asked curiously. Arsinoë let out a thoughtful hum as she chewed on her pancake.

"Politics, sex and deceit." Said the girl finally, before pressing play and returning to her meal. Of course, the explanation, straight to the point as it may have been, wasn't all that descriptive, but after six hours later and about as many episodes in, Esme could conclude that there really wasn't any other way to describe it.

And she could also conclude that she really wanted Cersei Lannister dead.

"She's going to kill her husband, isn't she?" Esme demanded angrily, "So that Joffrey can be king? She'll probably kill Ned too! It's entirely obvious!" Next to her, Arsinoë snorted into her ice cream.

"Maybe. Personally though, I love Cersei." She admitted with a dreamy sigh, and Esme's head swivelled to regard her in shock.

"But how can you? She's a terrible woman, manipulative and conniving and just pure evil!" The caramel haired woman vented. The younger female nodded with a bright grin.

"I _know!"_ She exclaimed eagerly. "And isn't that just wonderful! Because she's just so _strong,_ and powerful and clever!"

"But all of her and Jamie's actions are inexcusable!" Esme denied vehemently. Arsinoë laughed slightly.

"Okay, the whole incest thing is fucked up, I admit." She acknowledged with a grimace, "But everything else she's doing to protect her family, isn't she? In such an utterly messed up world, she's only doing what's best for her children. And at the end of the day, if your family were in danger, I'm sure you'd do the same."

That got Esme, because truth be told, she _would._ She'd do anything for her family if it meant keeping her safe.

Though at the moment, she didn't need to do anything at _all_ for them.

And suddenly, her previously good mood was crushed and she was back to where she was at the beginning –lonely and feeling worthless.

She sighed and slumped lower into the couch, looking at the time which read 2 _:57_ for the first time since she arrived _._ She realised idly that she was supposed to be in town at the moment, but couldn't muster up the energy to care all that much.

"You're depression is seeping into my skin and withering my bones." Said Arsinoë in a droll tone. Esme blinked at her once, before quickly pasting on a cheery smile.

"Depression? I'm feeling perfectly alright!" She lied. Judging by the blank stare she received, her friend didn't believe her.

"You've been huffing and puffing the whole day…" The younger girl stated around a mouthful of ice cream. The Caramel haired woman tried to laugh her statement off.

"You make me sound like the big bad wolf!" She joked. Arsinoë shrugged and turned back to the television where Jon Snow was currently brooding once more.

"I'm sure you could take down this house without as much effort." She answered. "I'd let you break a few things in order to get rid of your frustration, but I doubt my aunt would be very happy."

Esme shifted uncomfortably, not liking where this discussion was going. "I'm perfectly alright Arsinoë, I don't see why you'd think I'm both-"

"Where are Alice and Rosalie today?" The younger girl asked as if she hadn't just interrupted her. Esme frowned.

"They're spending the weekend shopping in Los Angeles." She replied, watching the girl carefully.

"Oh?" Arsinoë asked, sounding interested. "Why aren't you with them then? Shopping sprees are bonding times for females, aren't they?" Esme was confused as to why she sounded unsure, as if she wasn't a girl herself.

"I didn't want to go. As much as I love shopping, doing it for three days straight is just a little too much for me." She lied, adding a laugh at the end. Truthfully that wasn't the case. She _had_ in fact, wanted to go, however the two females hadn't. Apparently it was 'sister' bonding time, and mothers' weren't allowed.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Didn't you? Why not? Have you already been to Los Angeles?" Arsinoë asked curiously, to which Esme shook her head.

"City of Angels or not dear, I don't think the people are used to seeing sparkling females in the middle of town." She joked, making the purple haired girl laugh.

"They'd confuse _you_ for an angel!" She pointed out, still laughing. Esme giggled. "But you guys have the pill now, so you can go out into the sunshine again. I'd think you'd be excited to go."

Esme shrugged, something she did _very_ rarely and fumbled for an excuse. "Oh, I just wasn't up for it. There are plenty other occasions to go, after all." She said finally.

Arsinoë regarded her from the corner of her eye, before nodding in acquiesce. "And the guys?" She asked. Esme wondered why she was suddenly so interested.

"I'm not too sure. They didn't say, probably something reckless but since I'm their _mother_ , they wouldn't tell me." She couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of the word 'mother'. And it wasn't because she didn't like the role –because she adored her children, and she loved being a mother, it was just that sometimes, it was as if that was _all_ she was, and on the rare occasions she _wasn't_ , and had nothing to keep her occupied, then she was left lost and fumbling for something to latch onto.

"Hmm," Arsinoë hummed in a thoughtful tone eyes back on the telly. "The life of a housewife must be pretty sad and boring, especially one who doesn't even have to _do_ anything. And it must be worse when you're friends are all busy with their own exciting lives or something. I imagine after a while, one starts to feel a little lonely, or maybe just plain sad and useless, huh?"

Esme thought that the worst part about it, was that Arsinoë managed to hit her where it hurt _and_ seem like she didn't care at all.

And Arsinoë _knew_ she had done it. Because she was clever like that, and believed in tough love more than she did in coddling, proven by how many times she had managed to knock much needed sense into her son.

"I wouldn't know." Said Esme, looking straight at the TV screen.

The girl next to her heaved a sigh. "I think you _do_ know. And have for a while." She said, and Esme felt her unrelenting gaze upon her being. "And I think you're just too afraid to talk to anyone about it because you don't want to come off as weak and helpless."

And suddenly Esme couldn't take it anymore because that's _exactly_ how she felt and hearing it outloud was like blow after blow _after_ blow to the chest, leaving her winded and angry. "I _know_ it sounds mad and utterly absurd, but I can't _help_ but feel that way! You don't know what it's like sitting at home all day in such a big house, while everyone is out and enjoying their lives and I'm just _stuck_ there with no one to talk to, because I have no other friends beside you and Carmen, and nothing to do but be forced to wait patiently for everyone to come home like a good wife and mother to my already fully grown children!" She cried, weeks of frustration and turbulent emotion suddenly spilling out in one go.

She was _tired_ of feeling that way, and she was sick of it, and she was a _strong, independent_ woman, and she deserved to feel that way.

And while she was fuming, and huffing, and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf she'd been compared to, Arsinoë was simply eating her ice cream with a nonchalant expression, as if Esme had not just suddenly exploded in the middle of her living room.

The younger girl blinked slowly before shrugging. "Get a job then, sell your paintings, wrestle with your sons, have fun with your husband, go shopping with your daughters, make friends with other female vampires, make friends with some female _humans,_ keep helping the less fortunate, maybe go join a book club, pick up a hobby," Arsinoë paused thoughtfully, ignoring Esme's state of shock, because really, she'd just been listing solutions on whip, something that Esme hadn't been able to even do after weeks of melancholy. The purple haired girl squinted a little, before nodding to herself. "Actually, just go on holiday for a while. By yourself."

It took a moment for Esme to process what she'd just said. "By _myself?"_ She echoed, blinking in confusion. Arsinoë nodded.

"Ya." She answered casually around a mouthful of ice-cream. "It's summer, so maybe you can head down to the Caribbean or something, lounge around the beach in a bikini and bask in the feel of male attention and female envy. Feel like a woman again."

Esme huffed. "Carlisle gives me plenty attention thank you very much." She stated, her mind drifting to all the…attention her mate paid her.

She'd be blushing if she were able.

"I'm sure he does, and I'm not telling you to cheat on him or something. I'm just saying that having men aside from your husband drool just by looking at you, and women shooting you death glares and maybe some lusty looks gives one a confidence boost. Something you sorely need."

She could vaguely understand the concept, there was a reason Rosalie loved attention, but she'd never actually thought of herself in that position –relishing in envious stares of those around her.

Although, the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea.

"But what about-?" She was interrupted again, this time by a hand being waved in front of her face.

"Oh, they'll be fine. You need to learn to focus on yourself every once in a while. It's time you Womaned up." Her friend declared in a tone that broke no argument.

Esme nibbled on her lip thoughtfully, a smile slowly creeping onto her face the more she thought of it. A vacation to herself _did_ sound appealing, and she wouldn't go for _too_ long. Only ten days or so, just to get a breath of fresh air to think properly. Those options Arsinoë gave her sounded quite good. Perhaps she'd start working full time again…

And then her smile was a full blown grin, and she was hugging the purple haired girl as tightly as she could without breaking any bones.

Arsinoë for her part, was merely holding the ice cream away with one hand so it wouldn't spill and enduring the squeezing like a good soldier.

Esme stood quickly, feeling happier than she had in _weeks_. "I'm going to book the first flight out of here, and then I'm going to tell Carlisle and then I'm going to _Woman up!"_ She declared happily, planting her hands on her hips with determination.

Not that the younger girl was particularly moved, merely nodding in acceptance with a small smile. "Cool." The girl said easily. Esme gave her one last hug of gratitude, because really, the girl was the best thing to happen to their family in a long time, before heading out the door.

And an hour later, as she stood grinning brightly in Carlisle's office after telling him her plans and informing him quite clearly that she was planning on going whether or not he approved, because she was a _grown_ woman and she could do whatever she wanted, he smiled brightly.

"Do pick up some seashells while you're away."


End file.
